
Chef Elsa
Anisbogen
Paper-thin anise wafers piped, dried overnight, baked pale gold, and bent over a rolling pin while still hot. Old-fashioned Austrian Weihnachtsbäckerei at its most elegant and rewarding.
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Vienna's hot pink petit fours, soaked in rum punch and coated in shocking pink fondant. They look like candy. They taste like a Kaffeehaus that takes its drinking seriously.
The first time I saw Punschkrapferl, I was about seven years old, standing on my toes to peer into the glass case at a Konditorei in Salzburg. They were the pinkest things I'd ever seen. Gretel bought me one and I bit into it expecting something sweet and gentle, the way pink things usually taste when you're seven. What I got was rum. A lot of rum. My face must have been something, because Gretel laughed so hard she had to sit down.
Punschkrapferl are one of the great secrets of Viennese cuisine, and they tell you everything about how Austrian bakers think. Nothing gets wasted. You take your cake scraps, your Biskuit trimmings, the odds and ends left over from a day of baking Torten, and you crumble them up with apricot jam and cocoa. Then you soak the whole thing in a rum punch so strong it could strip paint. You shape them into little cubes or rounds, glaze them in that unmistakable pink fondant, and put them in the Konditorei case like they were born that way. Nobody seeing them for the first time would guess they began as leftovers.
This is thrift dressed in its best clothes. The pink is traditional, the rum is not optional, and the apricot jam running through the center is what keeps the whole thing from being just a sugar bomb. In my grandmother Eva's kitchen, Gretel would make these around Christmas, though any Viennese Konditorei sells them year-round. She'd soak them until they were almost dangerously boozy, then line them up on a rack to glaze. The kitchen smelled like a rum distillery for days. I loved it.
Don't be intimidated by the steps. Each one is simple. The technique is assembly, not architecture. You're building small, delicious things from honest ingredients, and the payoff is a tray of shocking pink confections that taste like nothing else in the world.
Punschkrapferl emerged from the Viennese Konditorei tradition of using every scrap of cake and Biskuit, a practice rooted in the guild system where wasting ingredients was both economically foolish and professionally shameful. The rum punch that gives them their name connects to Punsch, the hot rum drink that arrived in Vienna through the Habsburg empire's trade networks in the 18th century. The iconic pink glaze has no single origin story, but it became so strongly associated with these confections that Austrians simply call the color 'Punschkrapferl pink,' and the cakes have been a fixture of Konditorei cases, Christmas markets, and Faschingsfeiern for well over a century.
Quantity
4 large
separated
Quantity
120g
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
120g
Quantity
30g
unsweetened
Quantity
pinch
Quantity
200g
strained
Quantity
80ml
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
100ml
Quantity
100g
Quantity
60ml
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
300g
Quantity
3-4 tablespoons
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
enough for a strong pink
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| eggsseparated | 4 large |
| granulated sugar (for Biskuit) | 120g |
| vanilla sugar (Vanillezucker) | 1 teaspoon |
| plain flour | 120g |
| cocoa powder (for Biskuit)unsweetened | 30g |
| salt | pinch |
| apricot jam (Marillenmarmelade)strained | 200g |
| dark rum (for filling) | 80ml |
| cocoa powder (for filling mixture) | 2 tablespoons |
| water (for punch syrup) | 100ml |
| granulated sugar (for punch syrup) | 100g |
| dark rum (for punch syrup) | 60ml |
| lemon juice (for punch syrup) | 2 tablespoons |
| powdered sugar (for fondant glaze) | 300g |
| warm water (for fondant glaze) | 3-4 tablespoons |
| lemon juice (for fondant glaze) | 1 tablespoon |
| rum (for fondant glaze) | 1 tablespoon |
| red food coloring | enough for a strong pink |
Preheat your oven to 180°C (350°F). Line a 25x35cm baking tray with parchment. Beat the egg yolks with half the sugar and the Vanillezucker until thick and pale, about three minutes. In a separate clean bowl, whip the egg whites with a pinch of salt until soft peaks form, then gradually add the remaining sugar and beat to stiff, glossy peaks. Fold the whites into the yolk mixture in two additions. Sift the flour and 30g cocoa together, then fold in gently. You want to keep the air you just whipped in, so use a light hand. Spread the batter evenly across the lined tray and bake for 12 to 15 minutes, until the surface springs back when you press it lightly. Let it cool completely in the tray.
Crumble the cooled Biskuit into a large bowl. Break it down with your hands until you have fine, even crumbs with no large chunks. Add the strained apricot jam, 80ml of rum, and two tablespoons of cocoa. Mix everything together with your hands or a wooden spoon. The texture should be like wet sand that holds its shape when you press it. If it's too dry, add a splash more rum. If it's too wet, add a few more cake crumbs. You want a mixture that's moist enough to mold but firm enough to hold an edge.
Press the mixture into a parchment-lined tray or flat dish to about 2.5cm thick, packing it evenly with the back of a spoon or your palms. Chill in the fridge for at least 30 minutes until firm. Once set, cut into small cubes, roughly 3cm square. Traditional Punschkrapferl are small. They're meant to be two or three bites, not a full serving. Set the cubes on a wire rack with a tray underneath to catch drips.
Combine 100ml water and 100g sugar in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir until the sugar dissolves, then let it simmer for two minutes. Remove from heat and stir in 60ml rum and two tablespoons of lemon juice. The lemon cuts through the sweetness and keeps the punch from tasting flat. Let it cool to lukewarm.
Brush the punch syrup generously over all sides of each cube. Use a pastry brush and don't be shy. The cakes should absorb the syrup without falling apart. Let them sit for ten minutes, then brush again with whatever syrup remains. The Krapferl should be visibly moist but still holding their shape. This is where the flavor lives. A dry Punschkrapferl is a sad Punschkrapferl.
Sift the powdered sugar into a bowl. Add three tablespoons of warm water, one tablespoon of lemon juice, and one tablespoon of rum. Stir until completely smooth and glossy. The glaze should flow slowly off a spoon in a thick, even ribbon. If it's too thick, add warm water a teaspoon at a time. If it's too thin, add more powdered sugar. Now add the red food coloring, a drop at a time, stirring after each addition, until you reach that unmistakable Punschkrapferl pink. Bold. Bright. Not pastel, not magenta. Think shocking pink. You'll know it when you see it.
Make sure the soaked cubes are on a wire rack over a tray. Spoon the fondant glaze over each one, letting it run down the sides and coat all surfaces. Work quickly because the glaze starts to set once it cools. Use the back of the spoon to guide it if needed, but try not to overwork it. One coat should be enough if your glaze is the right consistency. Let them set at room temperature for at least an hour until the fondant is firm and dry to the touch.
Once the glaze is set, trim any fondant skirts from the base of each piece with a sharp knife. Arrange them on a plate or in paper petit four cases. They're best after resting overnight. The flavors merge, the rum softens into the crumb, and everything comes together. Serve at room temperature with strong Viennese coffee. Mahlzeit!
1 serving (about 50g)
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